Poisoning the Well

Poisoning The Well

Finally, a week’s worth of news not overshadowed by the need to select a Republican candidate for the upcoming US elections, nor the outrageous lip-service being paid to us by politicians claiming to be saving us from an economic crisis that my personal spending habits have created! This week I was able to view, with both disbelief and revulsion, the events in London and the Horn of Africa. Believe it or not, there’s a link.     

In the early 80’s I attended a day-long seminar at the Scarborough U of T campus. The topic of concern was environmental disease. Environmental diseases are an interesting phenomena; illnesses caused by the quality of the environment we live in. Quite often they can reach epidemic proportion, sometimes devastating entire communities, towns and cities, and even whole societies. These illnesses and the resulting devastation sometimes led to scientific and medical breakthroughs but more often than not a shift in societal priorities.

Historic accounts of environmental diseases include the Bubonic and Pneumonic Plagues that ravaged Europe throughout the Dark Ages, Middle Ages and the onset of the Industrial Revolution. More recently, an outbreak of Cholera during the mid nineteenth century in the US led to the first recording and tracking of a disease. Eventually the reporting of Cholera in the US gave way to the creations of such reputable groups as the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Center for Disease Control (CDC).

Earlier this month the latest Cholera outbreak was reported. Among the refugees traveling from famine ravaged Sudan to Kenya, Cholera has claimed well over two-hundred lives. Although this is but a small number comparative to those affected by the famine, and sentenced to death by starvation, it is still an outbreak of an environmental disease. A disease created or perpetuated by the environment lived in, or traveled through in this case, and indicative of its quality, its poor quality.

Getting back to the that U of T seminar. The disease being studied was not Cholera, it wasn’t either of the great plagues that ravaged Europe long ago. Its aim was the study of water borne parasites. During the 80’s, and I’m quite sure little has changed in thirty years, one in four people on the planet suffered from parasites; in other words twenty-five percent of the world’s population had worms. Our study concentrated on west Africa, where that percentage was considerably higher. This high incidence was created  by a contaminated water supply. Not caused by a chemical spill or industrial accident. This was simply poor waste disposal, inappropriate sewage control. In other words, defecating upstream of ones’ water supply.

At that time a great amount of resources, financial, research hours and technology, was pouring into solving this problem. Education programs were created, teaching the local populations how to properly dispose of their waste. NGO’s were funding filtration systems. Church groups were financing the drilling of better wells. Unfortunately Geo-political happenings in the early to mid 80’s overshadowed the importance of the measures taken. The public lost interest in such causes, transferring their care, and therefore their donated dollars to more fashionable concerns. This of course was then reflected in the monies allocated by western governments.

Environmental disease took a backseat to more fashionable issues. Tackling environmental disease had fallen from favor. There were more pressing concerns, at least for those that decided what was stylish and what would gather a greater audience share.

By ignoring the affects of environmental diseases, and their causes, we have seen other  tragedies in the past few decades. E. Coli is an environmental disease which has affected many communities in the western world. Most recently an outbreak in Europe involving tainted vegetables. Closer to home, and perhaps even more telling, the Walkerton tragedy and the evacuation of the Kashachewan First Nations Reserve. 

Environmental diseases point to a problem: abuse of the environment. The environment then tries to warn us of our abuses of it, or tries to rid itself of what is causing the problem; Us. When are we going to learn that peeing upstream of our water supply is not a good idea?

Nature has a way of defending itself, of correcting out of control abuse. Wildlife populations run in cycles; lemmings cast themselves off cliffs, snowshoe hares are thinned by lynx predation. Lightning creates forest fires which cause re-growth of unproductive stretches of woodland. And disease and starvation reduce a population that demands more on the environment than nature can feasibly sustain.

When man dumps sewage and other wastes into the environment with complete disregard for nature, man pays the price and suffers the consequences. Nature tries to eliminate the cause and return a balance to the environment. When man pees upstream of his water supply the entire village gets sick. If that village continues with this irresponsible waste management program the village is destroyed. 

It doesn’t stop at waste management: But it does begin with personal responsibility.

       

When are we going to realize that speeding on a residential street could cause harm and injury to those we love? And how long will it take before people understand that talking on a cell phone while driving puts your passengers at risk? 

Will we ever come to understand that littering in our neighborhood parks and street sides not only shows a disrespect for our personal surroundings but also a disregard for the environment that nurtures us?                          

The disenfranchised are not furthering their cause by steeling flat-screen TV’s. 

Burning our neighbors’ homes down, trashing the local convenience store and beating on those around us with similar concerns, or living under alike circumstances, is simply poisoning the well we all must drink from.

From Beaches to Backwoods, From Crete to Cree

From Beaches to Backwoods, From Crete to Cree

This last year has been interesting to say the least! Thousands of miles by air and rail, countless airports and a few places we'd choose never to over-night in again. Sub-tropic to sub-polar environments, walking in ruins of ancient civilizations to residing in ruined societies.

First hand we've seen the social progressions of man but also the degradation of a culture once proud of its roots. We've watched the same moon rise over prosperity and joy, but only months later to set upon a bleak and inhospitable forest of self decay. And the people we've met, those that will share all of the little they have, those that have much but are willing to share so little. Openness, care and respect. Disdain, apathy and arrogance.

Freedom 45

In January, only a few days after my 45th birthday I was packaged-out at work. The thirteen years of service amounted to enough to pay the bills for a while and dental coverage for a few months. It was a shock, a bit of a blow, but it was also a chance to try a few different things. Aimee was let go exactly a month later. But the Saturday before that, we found Lyndy, the best Valentine's ever!

As neither of us had really taken any time for ourselves in many years we both decided that we would enjoy this new found freedom, see a few things, maybe go a few places. We would not take jobs unless they offered a chance to explore, the world and ourselves. So we started exploring, and that lead to adventure!

We fished, we visited with friends. We cooked, ate and drank. And we laughed.

Early on we spent a week of our time at our friends’ Jeff and Lisa’s. We swam in their pool and lazed in their sauna as the snow fell and the freezing rain coated the outside world. Each night we dined and drank wine. Then, take-outs with Pam and Eric, returnees from the Southwest, were a weekly occurrence, whether from Johnny’s or Tim Horton’s.

Ice fishing wasn't a simple day outing. We slept on the ice. We fished through the night, watching the stars and the dark water. The silence only broken by the booms of cracking ice.

A day or two at the cottage would inevitably turn to a week.

We bird watched, we people watched. We watched the lake.

We collected stones. Shiny round ones that looked like beads. Faceted ones, beautiful ones. Any stone that caught our eye. Stones of every colour you can imagine. And I skipped a lot of stones.

Training a new dog, throwing stones and doing crosswords doesn’t really make for full-time employment. And none of these activities would pay the bills. So in March we attended a job fair in downtown Toronto. This lead to attending a seminar a month later. The North West Company seemed to be what we were looking for. Enough money to pay the bills, experiencing different cultures and the chance to see parts of the world otherwise out of reach. So on the first Tuesday of August we left for northern Ontario. But before going north, we went east.

Our Travels

On a Saturday morning in February we met two friends for coffee, it was in-fact the same day we picked up Lyndy. Faye and Spiro were to be married on the 25th of July. They had asked that I take their wedding photos. Over the next few months emails were exchanged and a number of conversations were held over the phone, but the next time we met face to face with them was in late July on the island of Crete.

Traditional Greek music and dancing, food and drink. The ceremony was beautiful, couldn't understand a word, but beautiful. And we were pleased beyond doubt with the photos we took!

Photos at the chapel, the receptions, after the ceremony and a gathering the night before. But the shots in the back alleys and later on the beach thrilled us all.

Our personal time was exciting and relaxing; swimming at the beach, walking the ancient town;

sampling the hospitality, the culture, architecture and of course the food.

Leaving was bittersweet. Leaving a place filled with history and myth, a foreign yet welcoming culture. Leaving warm sun and warmer beaches, fantastic scenery; a blend of an ancient people's impact on the land and the rough landscape still enduring.

But we were returning to see our families. Returning to our little dog. Returning to embark on our adventure north.

So on August 3rd we boarded a Via train north. With Lyndy safely secured in her crate aboard the baggage car, we settled into our berth. As we left the station we made our way to the observation car to be served Champagne and nibblies. The meals and service over the next day were superb. A train traveling north through the dark green forests of Ontario, commencing in the busiest hub in the country, seemed the ideal setting for the adventure we were embarking upon!

Twenty-two hours later we arrived in Nakina. We settled into our new apartment with the possessions we took with us on the train; clothing, photos, the kitchen gadgets we couldn’t live without, some affects that make a house a home. And of course, fishing gear! Our best friend Dave would travel north to see us the following week. He had kindly offered to take with him some other much needed goods. Specifically Aimee’s beads and my guns.

Nakina

Now let me tell you a bit about Nakina. It’s a town of about three-hundred and fifty people. A few years ago its population was over seven-hundred. When the lumber mill shut down the town went south. For half the population it literally went south! It has a Post Office, an LCBO and a bank that’s open two days a week. It also has an airport which caters mainly to the First Nations reserves in the area and those investing in the hopeful prosperity of the Ring of Fire project. Those of you that know of Nakina probably do through outdoor publications and TV shows; Because Nakina has the best moose hunting and walleye fishing available in Ontario, maybe all of Canada.

There are no traffic lights in Nakina, only four-way stops. There are no sidewalks, no crosswalks. Rarely will you see someone speed. Everyone stops at the stop signs, well almost everyone, but that’s a story for another day... But Nakina is the friendliest town in all Ontario! Everyone waves to each other; friend or stranger. Within a few days we were invited to dinner. Within a week customers and neighbours alike knew our names. Within a couple of weeks we had been invited blueberry picking and speckled trout fishing. To quote Daryl Cronzy, “It’s Paradise!” If Aimee and I were ever to buy a place in Ontario, it will be in Nakina.

Further Afield

Our traveling though has not stopped. We even traveled while living in Nakina. On September the 23rd I flew from Nakina to Thunder Bay. Took a flight from there to Montreal, staying overnight. The following day I flew to Waskaganish on the Quebec side of James Bay.

Waskaganish is the Cree name for the community originally called Fort Rupert. In 1668 The Hudson Bay Company established its first outpost at the mouth of the Rupert River. The Northern

store there sits on the same parcel of land. So for a week I worked at the oldest retail establishment in the New World. Unfortunately that meant Aimee and I would not be able to spend her birthday together. I was scheduled to fly out the day after her birthday. We were to meet that evening in Thunder Bay and spend the night there.

I arrived at the Waskaganish airport just after two. At about the same time, Aimee started the 400km drive to Thunder Bay. My 3:45 flight was delayed by half an hour. The transfer in Val-d’Or was further delayed. By the time I had reached Montreal I had missed my connection to Toronto and subsequently the connecting flight to Thunder Bay.

Needless to say, Aimee spent the night alone in the Thunder Bay hotel room. I slept in the lounge at YYZ.

Over the next week we received more news of our further travels. A week in Kashechewan, together this time, and then a transfer to Sandy Lake.

The trip to Kashechewan was in some sense a blessing. It allowed us to travel on the train to Toronto to visit with family before flying to the Ontario side of James Bay. We had Thanksgiving dinner on the train; again excellent food and wonderful service. My Mum and Dad met us at Union station. We had coffee with them, a great morning. They later dropped us off at Aimee’s house in Whitby. We had a super time with friends and family, and the next morning flew north.

Kashechewan is almost a polar opposite to Nakina and in so many ways. And although the same culture as Waskaganish, and only just across the bay, so very different from there too. We were there a week. Five days too long. Travel home couldn’t come soon enough.

The trip out of Kashechewan was as interesting as the rest. From Kashechewan to Fort Albany. The shortest commercial flight in the world; the landing gear goes up and stays there for less time than it’s down. From there to Moosanee, and from there a connecting flight from Timmins to Toronto. Tom and Sharon picked us up at the airport, we were very grateful. Another day with family then back on the train.

Four days after our return to Nakina we left there again. But this time for good. We packed, said our goodbyes and were flying once more. From Nakina to Fort Hope, then a connection in Thunder Bay. From there to Sioux Lookout. The connection from there to Sandy Lake was delayed due to weather. After finding a dog-friendly hotel we spent the night.

The flight the next morning was another mini adventure. Lyndy was stuck in the baggage compartment for almost an hour before take-off. And the flight was another thing. Just enough visibility to fly. But as we rose above the clouds it was spectacular, as bright as one could imagine!

Descending through the clouds was like passing through nothing. But what we saw and experienced as we left them now seems a foreboding omen. What struck me first was brown and grey. The grey of the landscape overshadowed the green. The brown water of the vast lake blotched out the blue of the smaller surrounding lakes. Sandy Lake is aptly named. The lake truly is sandy! The water is the colour of bad chocolate milk! And the landing! We were all over the ice coated gravel runway. And as we exited the plane the cold hit us!

Getting out of the airport was worse than going through customs. Everything was searched. And what they queried was just mind boggling. Our guns were fine, but the collection of goat cheese and olives certainly seemed to raise some eyebrows. But they never found the bottle of bourbon! Looking back it’s almost too bad though, might have got us that BCR to get us out of here!

Life on the Reserve

Sandy Lake is a whole other world! Depressed, repressed and miserable, everything about it. I’ll not go into it. Those that would like to hear more should contact us and ask. But be prepared for some horror, some sadness and some maddening stories. It’s not a pleasant place!

We have our little house though. It’s affectionately been labeled the “Doll House”. A small two-bedroom; smaller in-fact than the apartment in Nakina. The view is pleasant; trees sloping down to the lake. It’s bright when the sun shines. We’ve hung photos, and personal items are throughout, making it seem like our own. But for how long, who knows?

I walk Lyndy a few times a day. On-leash all of the time though; for her it’s not really safe. We’ve blazed a trail through the woods to the west of the “compound”. Beautiful path, and now especially with the spruce and fir trees laden with snow.

This time of year, the days are short and the nights are long. The sun rises around eight and sets by four. But our workdays are long. Out at seven-thirty in the morning, not home until eight or nine in the evening; sometimes later.

We’re hoping to do some ice-fishing soon. Once the Christmas selling season is over there just might be some time to relax. But for now, our days off are spent regrouping and recovering our physical and emotional strength.

Lessons Learned

We asked for an adventure, and that’s what we got! So far, this year has been a great learning

experience for us. We have been taught much, as much about the world around us as we have of ourselves. We’ve seen how other people live and react to those around them. We’ve rediscovered how well we’ve been blessed; with reliable friends, good family and able bodies and minds!